


My Thoughts On You

by CoinToYourWitcher, Everren



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: All song fics all the time, Angst, Brighton Beach, Camden Market, Clubbing, Come on a musical journey with me, Demisexual Ben Solo, Drinking, Ecstasy - Freeform, Eventual Sex, F/M, First Love, Grandson - Freeform, Halsey - Freeform, Leeds Castle, London, Maze Sex, Riverboat sex, Riverboats, Romance, Rynn - Freeform, San Holo, Sexual Tension, The Band Camino, The Roxy, The World's End pub, Tower Bridge, Waiting for the beat to drop, study abroad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-23 08:53:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23008894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoinToYourWitcher/pseuds/CoinToYourWitcher, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everren/pseuds/Everren
Summary: Ben Solo returns numb from his study abroad in London, unable to perform the simple task of retrieving his suitcase from the luggage carousel. He sits, thinking of the girl he left behind.Inspired by:I was there when you were blindTo everything that I could seeI'll pretend that it's just mebut maybe really it's just meI forgot what it was liketo think I found you finallyWhat if you were the one for me?I hope you weren't the one for meAnd I know thisI can't read it rightbetween the fightsI still need youMy Thoughts On You – The Band CaminoThe Spotify Playlist
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 34
Kudos: 51
Collections: The Perfect Date - Pink Ladies Spring Exchange





	1. Tower Bridge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [here4thereylo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/here4thereylo/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter song recommendation: Tokyo by Rynn
> 
> **My tears built my own hell  
>  So I'd ride the train aimlessly through the city  
> Just trying to feel sane again  
> I'd never felt more alone  
> But I didn't wanna come back home**

[ ](https://ibb.co/MPJLXn3)

Ben stood at Baggage Claim Carousel 7 at Trenton-Mercer Airport. He could feel the heat from outside hit him every time the automatic doors slid open to the Arrivals pickup area. It was a weird sensation. He had grown used to the perpetual chill of England in Spring. New Jersey in April already felt like summer. A fly buzzed somewhere. He hadn’t seen a bug in 3 months.

He decided to sit down, the bags weren’t coming out of the chute yet. His back hurt from the 7-hour flight. The seats were not made for guys his size. Leaning forward, Ben put his head in his hands and stared at the floor.

_Don’t think. Don’t think._

Those words had become his mantra today. He squeezed his eyes shut. This was the first moment since leaving his bed that morning that he wasn’t in a cab or plane, jammed in with other people. The airport was full but he was having a moment to himself, a moment to breathe, finally. He felt that burn in his nose that meant he was about to cry.

_Don’t think._

The baggage line started up and eventually one bag slid down the ramp. He sat up straight to get a view of the ones coming out next. His back gave a painful twinge. He didn’t feel like a twenty-two year old; he felt like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He groped around in his book bag for some ibuprofen. His Moleskine notebook was in the top flap and he looked idly at it while he dry-swallowed the small red pills. A few leaves of paper were loose, sticking out. A crease formed between his dark eyebrows and he pulled the book out of his bag to investigate the new additions.

They were drawings—from _her_ sketchbook. She must have tucked them in there last night. He studied them, feeling his heart constrict painfully, even as it tried to beat faster. These sketches were new; he hadn’t seen these before, even though they had clearly been done in the last few months. He picked the first one up, turning the paper horizontal.

[ ](https://ibb.co/Sn20dMK)

\---------------------------

\---------------------------

Ben’s study abroad program in the UK included a paid internship at a law firm called Snoke & Armitage, which was proving to be fruitful, Victor Snoke himself had really taken him underwing. Regrettably, it was nowhere near Bloomsbury, where he and his fellow Princeton students shared one big, four-story townhouse.

It was, however, close to Camden Town. In the weeks since he’d started, he’d managed to catch glimpses of the area during snatched lunch breaks and on his nightmarish trudge to and from the closest underground station in rush hour. It had been enough to make him swear to return when he had the day to himself, to immerse himself properly. 

Today, finally free of any time constraints, he was strolling through the market, looking for souvenirs. It was January, and Ben had become painfully aware that he hadn’t packed a warm enough coat for the icy drizzle that had been haunting London since his arrival. His goal was to find a replacement for the black pleather jacket that had left his teeth constantly chattering. 

Camden was an odd place, a mixture of brick and history: a Regency lock system letting riverboats change elevation next to a punk rock street straight out of the 80’s, with smatterings of neon “cybergoth” just to confuse the dynamic.

A gentleman sporting a green mohawk and plaid pants was selling refreshments from a cart. Trying not to gawk, Ben dug a British pound coin from his pocket and asked for a bottle of water.

“A baaadle a’ waaader,” a voice said behind him, mimicking his American accent. He glanced behind him. A girl with purple hair and a lip ring was waiting her turn. She stopped chewing her gum to grin as he made eye contact. She had on a lot of – _what was it called, mascara? Eyeliner? Eye shadow?_ He judged that she was about his age, maybe younger. _Say something back, you idiot._

“Your water,” Mohawk Guy said, annoyed at Ben’s sudden inattentiveness.

Ben spun around to grab the bottle.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, as he stepped aside, before glancing one more time at Purple Hair Girl, who was already requesting something called “Waterbridge wine gums”. 

Ben was wandering away slowly, sipping from his bottle with self-reproach, when he spotted a jacket that might actually fit him at one of the stalls. It was an attribute he’d learned to appreciate in clothes at the age of sixteen, when he had shot past his peers, landing now finally at 6’5”. If fitting hadn’t been a good enough selling point, the jacket at the stall was also dark gray, with a hood, and...water resistant, not repellant. _Eh, good enough._ He tried it on in front of a mirror and realised it was warming him up already. 

“How much is it?” he asked the vendor, not seeing a tag.

“Two ‘undred.”

“Pounds?!” Ben said, taking it off and trying to get it back on the hanger. He heard a groan behind him.

“You probably bought it for, what, fifty?”

It was Purple Hair Girl, talking to the vendor, outraged. She was holding a small black bag of gummy candy.

“I migh’ be able bring it down to one seven five, but that’s just cause is not touris’ season and we need sales,” he replied, his accent thicker than hers, maybe cockney.

“You’re not going to make a sale if you’re starting your price at four times the wholesale cost,” she said bluntly, motioning to Ben as she added, “Look! He’s shaking in his Sperrys over there.”

Ben watched, wide-eyed and silent, as Purple Hair Girl haggled the vendor for a better price on his coat. She had a little attitude on her but the vendor didn’t seem to mind. After a few minutes, he was walking away in a warm coat, a clean one, from the back, for seventy-five pounds. 

Purple Hair Girl was walking next to him, explaining that you _have_ to haggle, it’s practically rude if you don’t, and pointing him to certain vendors she liked. She told him where _not_ to get tattoos and implored him to find tighter trousers unless he wanted to walk around wet up to his knees every day, explaining that khakis were for the summer and that he needed something with some weight to it.

Ben stared at her in awe. He couldn’t tell if she was patronizing or flirting.

“Okay, well, I’m off,” she said eventually, pointing to a pub on the opposite side of the road. The lower half of the tall, brick building was painted a deep crimson color, accentuating the way it sat at odd angles with the sidewalk, and gold letters above the entryway read The World’s End.

“It’s early for a drink, isn’t it?” Ben said, checking his watch. 

“I work there. We’re serving lunch,” she said, looking him up and down. There was a long pause, while Purple Hair Girl watched Ben expectantly, before she took a big breath and walked away. He noticed that under her coat she was wearing a black mini skirt, with tights and combat boots. Right before she pushed her way into the pub, she glanced purposefully back at him.

Ben could eat.

He hesitated at the door, looking at the menu taped to the inside of the window. He’d never actually pursued a girl, he realized. _What is she going to do when she sees me? What am I going to say to her? Why am I still looking at this menu!?_ He already knew he was going to get the veggie wrap - it was the only vegan option - besides mushy peas or french fries, “chips” - but for some reason it took everything he had to step inside. 

As casually as possible, he walked in and headed for the stools at the bar then ordered his food from the bartender. _Stupid._ A smart guy would have sat at a table if he wanted to talk to the waitress, but Ben couldn’t bring himself to draw any more attention to himself by moving.

Purple Hair Girl came out from the back, tying on an apron which completely covered her mini-skirt. She had shed her jacket and was wearing a white button-up T-shirt that showed off two full sleeves of intricate, black tattoos. She stopped, and upon seeing her first lunch customer, tilted her head, and nibbled her silver lip ring. She looked proud of herself.

\------------------------------------------------------

Lunch service had ended hours ago. Ben was watching Rey—that was her name—as she drew on a napkin across from him at the bar, blissfully ignoring her other customers. He had found out that she was twenty years old, that she had been in the care system for as long as she could remember and that she had left high school when she was sixteen—which was apparently legal in the UK—and finished her education part-time through an online college while she waited tables. In return, he had shared that he was studying abroad until April, relieved to get some breathing room from his family who expected to see him elected to some high office someday.

Ben looked down at the napkin beneath Rey’s pen. He had been watching, on and off, as the form of an old man in a newsboy hat had slowly emerged, lifelike, from the paper. Glancing over his shoulder, where Rey’s eyes had kept flicking during their conversation, he found he was easily able to recognise the sketch’s subject, hunched over a pint glass of beer in one of the booths by the window.

“That’s really good,” Ben said, turning back, his eyebrows slightly raised.

Rey spun it around for him to see. “You can have it!” She squatted down behind the bar to stuff her mouth with the gummy candy she’d bought on her way to work.

Ben smiled and pulled out his Moleskine notebook, pressing the napkin safely in the middle.

“What’s that?” she asked, her cheek full.

“It’s mostly To Do lists,” he said, lifting a hand to rearrange his dark hair. “But I’ve got my British Bucket List in here too.” Hesitantly, he turned the book around to show her.

She read aloud, “Camden Market—check—Tower Bridge, Tower of London, Big Ben, Leeds Castle…wow, you Yanks are so predictable.” She handed it back to him with a teasing grin, watching him tap his box of cigarettes on the wood of the bar. 

“I’m sure if you came to America you would go see the White House or- what _is_ there to see in America?” he said, finding himself feeling slightly baffled.

“I would go to Niagara Falls,” she said matter-of-factly, undoing her apron and tucking it down behind the bar. “Bye, Lando,” she called over her shoulder, ducking out from beneath the bar flap and grabbing her coat off the wall. At the exit, she stopped, looking back at him.

“You coming, or do you live here now?”

Ben hurriedly stuffed his notebook back into his book bag before following her.

They wandered to the tube station, where Rey pulled him onto a Northern Line train bound for Morden via London Bridge. She filled the silence easily while they travelled and Ben found he loved listening to her, even when she turned to snap at the suited man who’d bumped her with his briefcase. 

“Where are we going?” he asked finally, when she had them change to a Circle Line train at Moorgate.

“Tower Bridge,” she replied cheerily, unphased by the press of bodies on the new train. “To check it off your Bucket List.” 

Ben nodded, smiling. He had his own personal guide. He stared at her mouth, just a few inches away, as he hung tightly onto the overhead bar.

_________________________

They walked along Tower Bridge, single file, staring down at the Thames washing by below them. Ben recognised the Tower of London, a fortified former-royal-prison on the near shore, rising majestically out of the mud. He took his notebook out and checked off both landmarks, then lit another cigarette and leaned his arms on the railing to blow his smoke over the side.

“That’s _it_?” Rey asked incredulously from beside him. “I feel like, if you come almost four thousand miles, you should be doing it for something amazing.” She reached over and borrowed his cigarette for a puff, then returned it. 

Ben watched her hair blowing in the silty air. He wanted to tell her how incredible she seemed to him but didn’t know how to say it, didn’t even know where to start. He’d always been bad at talking to girls. _I like everything that you are right now,_ came to mind. It sounded stupid, even in his own head.

“Okay, let me see your phone,” she said, holding out a hand expectantly. He handed it to her and she unlocked it. He blinked. She must have seen him do his password at the pub. Her audacity made him laugh. She opened camera mode and swiped to the video setting, then hit the record button and lifted the phone up with both hands.

“Hi Ben!”

“Uh...hi.”

“Give me your jacket and put all your important stuff in it,” she said, still filming.

“Are you robbing me?” he laughed, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

“No. You’re going to jump,” she said, as if it were obvious. 

“What?!”

Ben must have looked nonplussed because a huge grin spread across Rey’s face as she watched his reaction through the phone screen.

“You came across a bleeding ocean for this! You’re going to go home and, one day, tell your kids about the time you jumped off Tower Bridge,” she said calmly, holding the phone steady, her eyes alight.

“I’m not jumping; it’s January,” he said soberly, looking over the side at the brown water.

“Ben. I will sleep with you if you jump off this bridge,” she said seriously.

“No, you won’t,” Ben replied, laughing nervously. A young boy walking past had frozen robotically and turned to curiously watch their exchange.

“I swear on the Queen and all her corgis, if you jump off this bridge, you WILL have sex with me,” Rey declared. She was still smiling widely but something had changed about her expression. For one thing, her eyes were no longer trained on the screen but boring directly into Ben. He had a sinking feeling like jumping off a bridge was about to be added to his agenda. 

A few of the other tourists on the bridge had stopped their conversations to look at them. It was hardly surprising; Rey wasn’t exactly being quiet. The boy was tugging on passerby to tell them they were going to miss out if they didn’t stay tuned.

“Do it!” the kid shouted, motioning to Rey as if Ben was an idiot for even taking time to consider her proposition. The small crowd of onlookers twittered with laughter and Ben realised that their numbers were growing. The boy was whispering to all the newcomers why he was going to jump.

 _Where are this kid’s parents?_ Ben’s eyes panned between Rey, the crowd and the river for a minute, then he quickly shrugged off his new winter coat, ignoring the shocked and delighted cries that rose around him. People from the other side of the bridge were crossing the road to see what was going on now and even some of the commuters were slowing down to watch. 

Ben handed his coat to the boy. 

“Don’t let her take my stuff, okay?” 

He still wasn’t sure this wasn’t a brilliant plan to rob him. 

Ben climbed up and balanced on the blue railing, standing up slowly. A feeling of vertigo hit him once he reached his full height, now several feet higher than when he stood on the sidewalk. He took another quick look down at the opaque, very cold-looking river. Adrenaline, terrible fear, and wonderful excitement coursing through his veins. Glancing back at Rey, he saw that she was still filming, her mouth open in a huge smile, her chest heaving. He also saw two police officers running at him from both sides.

“Oh shit.” 

_Don’t think._

He jumped, his legs kicking, feeling...infinite.

\---------------------------

\---------------------------

Ben looked up from the drawing and watched his suitcase travel the conveyor belt alone. Baggage Claim Carousel 7 was deserted, apart from an airport employee wheeling a line of trolleys back to their park. Ben didn’t stand. Instead, his hand flipped to the next sketch.


	2. Leeds Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter song recommendation: Come Close by Ry-Lo
> 
> **You scribed notes and you left them  
>  In the pages where I write my mind  
> You're waiting out on the pavement  
> You cross your fingers and you hold your breath**

Ben slogged to the riverbank, the mud sucking at his shoes. The current had drifted him under the bridge and deposited him downstream. He was still up to his knees in murky water by the time Rey got to him. She ran full speed, almost knocking him over as she jumped on him, her mouth on his and her hands in his wet hair. As she wrapped her legs around him, Ben heard clapping and cheering from high above them. When they finally broke apart, Ben glanced upwards. The crowd on the bridge spread halfway across the Thames on this side and he heard honking that indicated they were obstructing traffic.

Over Rey’s shoulder, he could see the two cops from the bridge and what he suspected were two more plain-clothes officers lined up on the bank, waiting to see if he ran, though not wanting to get their feet wet. Laboriously, he carried Rey up to the shore, set her down, and took a bow for the benefit of the onlookers as one of the cops handcuffed him behind his back. The others turned to line the path up to a waiting police car. He could hear Rey behind him, protesting loudly, as she was guided to a second. The mob above was booing but he didn’t put up a fuss as the officer pressed a hand to the top of his head and forced him into the back seat of the vehicle.

In fact, it was all he could do not to smile as the cops attempted to impart a sense of dread in him. All he could think was that he would jump again in a heartbeat for another kiss like that. 

There were questions, lots of them, as the two of the officers tried to determine if he was suicidal, then they left him alone in the back seat for a while, thankfully _with_ the hot air running. Through the steamy window, Ben watched as they talked amongst themselves. He could tell from their body language that they didn’t particularly want to press the matter - he knew it would mean him being sent back to America and possibly not being allowed re-entry - and, despite themselves, they seemed to have been amused, if a little exasperated, by his honest explanation of what had happened. 

Eventually, Ben was allowed out of the car and uncuffed, just as Rey appeared at his side. Ben rubbed at his wrists while the cop in charge, one of the plain-clothes officers, told them both, firmly, that there wouldn’t be a _next time_.

Ben was almost blue from the cold by the time the kid from the bridge ran up to him to return his belongings. Ben eagerly pulled on his new coat and tucked it around him before Rey took his hand to lead him to the nearest pub with an open fire. As they walked away, Ben saw the kid give him an exaggerated wink, doing a little dance. He felt his stomach flip over on itself.

“I’ve never seen a wet man in cuffs before,” Rey said, setting two pints on the table next to the blazing fire. “Not gonna lie; I’ll be thinking about _that_ later.”

Ben laughed, “Yeah, if I’d gotten arrested, my uncle would have killed me. He’s a senator. I’ll, uh, be right back,” Ben said, almost tripping over himself as he rose from his seat. He could feel Rey’s eyes on his back as he followed the sign for the 'Gents’.

The bathroom door swung shut behind him but he didn’t head for the urinal, stopping instead to lean on the counter and look at himself in the mirror. He replayed the bridge in his mind: the free falling, her kiss, the cops, the way she looked at him as she slid his beer to him. When he focused on his own reflection again, he realised he was smiling so widely it hurt. He gripped the sink as hard as he could. He wanted to sprint a mile, screaming the whole time, just to let it all out.

The door behind him opened and a man walked in, already unzipping his fly. Ben quickly arranged his face back to normal and pretended to wash his hands.

\-----------------------------------

**Flashing those eyes like highway signs**

**Light one up and hand it over, rest your head upon my shoulder**

**I just wanna feel your lips against my skin**

“This isn’t what I imagined you listening to,” Ben said as Rey drove down the highway - “motorway” - on the wrong side of the road, or what would have been, if they were in America. Ben glanced at the song title on the Bluetooth car radio display. **Is There Somewhere** by **Halsey**.

“And this is _not_ the car I pictured you driving,” he continued, resting his arm on the door of the shiny, red Bentley.

“This is _driving_ music!” Rey said, fiercely, before adding, “And one of my former fosters works at the showroom. I just have to have it back to him by eight tonight.”

“Well, that was nice of him,” he said. Rey made a little scoffing sound from the driver’s seat but, by the time Ben turned to look at her, she was silent again. She was wearing a fluffy black sweater punctuated with giant holes, her matching black nail polish glinting as her fingers tapped on the steering wheel in time with the music. 

**I'm sorry but I fell in love tonight**

**I didn't mean to fall in love tonight**

**You're looking like you fell in love tonight**

**Could we pretend that we're in love?**

Her eyes met his briefly and she shot him a white smile, shaking her head a little. _God._ Was he staring at her?

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leeds Castle wasn’t busy, probably due to the fact that it was a cold and overcast Thursday in late January. It meant that Rey and Ben basically had the castle and grounds to themselves. 

It meant that there was no one to judge him as he enjoyed the sight of Rey walking in front of him through the corridors and stairways, her hand trailing along the rock walls and tapestries alike. She was wearing gray skinny jeans and it was the first time Ben had really appreciated the pert roundness of her ass. It would have been difficult _not_ to notice; it was in his face every time she climbed one of the spiral staircases. He briefly wondered what it might feel like to pull her into one of the stately bedrooms and shut the door behind them both. He had an inkling this wouldn’t be unwelcome, judging by the sly looks she was giving him from time to time.

Outside again, they sat together at the edge of the lake, Ben smoking a cigarette while Rey lazily sketched a couple of the swans that were investigating them for food. She always sketched in pen, he realized. _That’s Rey. Confident._

A while later, once the pen and lighter had returned to their respective pockets, they wandered a little until they discovered a maze grown entirely out of tall, perfectly manicured shrubs. 

“Do you think there’s a Triwizard Cup in the middle?” Ben joked as they found the entrance. Overhead, the sun was coming out. 

Rey spun around, grabbing Ben’s white T-shirt beneath his unzipped jacket. She had that look in her eye, from the bridge.

“Count to thirty then come and find me.”

She let him go and ran into the maze.

Ben swayed, blinking. It took him a moment to realise he wasn’t counting. He waited for what he hoped was close to thirty seconds, then started forward between the hedges. 

The maze took him left, following the curve of a semicircle. When he got to the first intersection, he saw her bra on the ground to the right. _Holy shit._ He picked it up, letting the pink lace run through his fingers, before he stuffed it into his back pocket and followed the path it had marked. At the next crossroads he found her skinny jeans to the left. It took him a long moment to register that Rey was up ahead, without her pants. He picked up her jeans, dusting them off with shaking fingers, and walked on, feeling suddenly bowlegged and way too inexperienced to impress this punk rock nymph.

The turns he’d taken seemed to be leading him away from the center of the maze, like maybe no one would find them back here. He heard a silvery laugh coming from around the next turn and Ben swallowed hard against the lump that had formed in his throat. He broke out into a run, sliding a little as he emerged onto the new path, suddenly desperate to get to her before she could go anywhere.

Her sweatered arms wrapped around his neck, as though she had been waiting for him, and she kissed him hard as he accidentally hockey-slammed her into the bushes. Both of them laughed and he kissed her like that, relieved to finally get his hands on her again. His tongue was in her mouth, her lip ring tickling him. He kissed her so hard that every time he took a gasp of air, he tasted the scent of the boxwoods around them.

He had wanted to do this two weeks ago when they’d left the pub’s cosy fireside, when the sun had been setting on the Thames and her small hand had been wrapped tightly in his, but Rey had written her number in Sharpie on his arm instead, kissed his neck, and taken the train back to Camden Town.

Ben felt Rey’s hand moving against the straining denim at his crotch as she struggled to unbutton his jeans with her numb fingers.

 _Here?_ he thought, the breath hitching in his throat as his eyes moved down between them to her hands then onwards to the ground. There was nothing but dusty, sandy gravel underfoot.

Ben needn’t have worried; wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, Rey climbed him like a tree, clearly having had no intention of lying down at all. He was silently thankful that the cold was having _no effect_ on his body at that moment. He pressed her firmly back into the greenery before sliding one hand upwards from her thigh to move her panties to one side. He shifted a little, feeling the tip of his cock nudging suggestively at her entrance, and was about to lift a hand to his lips, to wet his fingers, when she pushed herself down onto him before he was expecting it. He let out a strangled gasp, his arm quickly clamping around her small waist to steady them both.

 _God, didn’t she want to take that stroke slow? She’s so small, it must have hurt._ She was wet - _so wet,_ his inner voice sighed - but he also knew he wasn’t exactly average down there. “Proportionate” was a word that had been used before.

He did a few slow test pumps, watching her face carefully as his lungs tried their best to find some kind of a rhythm again. Her eyes were closed, either in concentration or pain. He paused, unsure, but she ground herself onto him. _Maybe he really didn’t understand women._

He’d had sex before, a couple of times, but he almost wished he hadn’t. They had been nice girls, attractive, but he’d done it the first time because he hadn’t wanted to go to college a virgin. The second time, he had just been scratching an itch, not a sexual one necessarily, maybe a lonely one. Thinking back now, he didn’t regard them as passionate, so much as educational. 

But this, this was different. He hadn’t even known he could feel this way until Rey had run through the shallow water of the Thames two weeks ago and pounced on him. As he held her tight now, listening to the little noises she was making into his neck, feeling the way she moved her hips against him, he was afraid. _Losing this is not an option._

Okay, he definitely saw her wince. He pulled out.

“No! I’m fine!” she said, angrily, grabbing him by the shirt as he set her down.

“You’re not. Why didn’t you tell me I was hurting you?” he said, putting himself away. “And do you often have unprotected sex with complete strangers?” 

Her eyes widened slightly before she looked away to stare at the ground, her chin quivering. 

“Rey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he said, pulling her slowly into his chest. She let him, huffing out a breath and balling her hands into her sleeves. She was shaking, he realised, but whether from his words or the cold, he wasn’t quite sure. He silently cursed himself. It was all very well scolding her but _he_ should have put a condom on. He had two in his wallet. _Stupid._

“I need to put my jeans back on,” she laughed, croakily. Not looking at him, she picked up her pants, dancing back into them, before stuffing her feet into her unlaced combat boots, which had been discarded against the opposite hedge.

They walked out of the maze in silence. Ben had so many questions but couldn’t figure out how to ask any of them. He wanted to know why she was so impulsive - reckless, even - but he didn’t know how to word that without making it sound like it was a bad thing. He wanted to know how she could be so independent and sure of herself, how she could haggle over a hundred pounds off the price of a coat for him, yet wasn’t strong enough to speak up for herself just now, letting him hurt her. 

How had guys treated her in the past, that she thought she had to sacrifice her own pleasure for his? Ben knew that, if she’d just let him, he could have made sure it didn’t hurt. He wasn’t impatient. 

Ben decided then and there to see if he could make the day last a little longer; he didn’t want to end on this note. It had taken them two weeks to reconnect last time and he’d jumped off of Tower Bridge for her then. If he let her go now, he might never see her again.

“Hey, Rey, take me somewhere not on my Bucket List,” Ben said as they made their way back to the Bentley. “Take me somewhere _you_ like.”


	3. The Roxy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter song recommendation: Despicable by grandson
> 
> **Despicable  
>  Love her then I leave her  
> And if I were you  
> I wouldn't love me neither  
> Said if I were you  
> I wouldn't love me neither  
> The boy who fell into the sky  
> Had no one there to watch him cry**

Ben watched as the airport staff took his bag off the conveyor belt and wheeled it over to Customer Service. He leaned back, flipping to the last sketch.

[ ](https://ibb.co/7GG4mpc)

\---------------------------

\---------------------------

Rey drove to Brighton Beach. It was a ghost town in winter, plus the clouds had come out. They crunched along, picking up the smooth stones and showing each other pieces of beach glass. Rey assured him it would be fine if they were late returning the car. 

It was starting to rain, a fine mist. Ben pulled his umbrella out of his book bag, but a gust of wind inverted it.

“Fuck,” he said, trying to use the incoming wind to get it to flip back but some of the spokes were broken. The rain picked up a little bit. 

Rey grabbed the umbrella, laughing, and threw it up-shore. She stuck her arms out and leaned her head back. He watched her, smiling. She mussed his hair, as if to say he was too precious about it. He closed his eyes, trying to remember if he had ever just stood in the rain. Rey copied him and closed her eyes, tilting her head so her hair wouldn’t cling to her face. Ben took a step forward and kissed her. Gentle, not urgent like before. 

She took his wrists, positioning his arms around her one at a time, the way he had held her in the maze. Her mouth tasted like gum and rainwater. When she started shivering, they began walking back to the car.

“What are you doing tonight?” Rey asked, her eyes on her feet.

“Probably replacing all the mouse traps in the student house with vegan nachos,” he said, seriously. Rey had to stop walking, she was laughing so hard.

“No, I’m serious, I heard one go off the first night I was there and I’ve been doing it since. They still don’t know it’s me and I’m the only vegan in the house, it’s so obvious,” he said, opening the car door for her.

Ben knew he wasn’t going to go home with Rey tonight. Not after today’s incident. He wanted that far from his mind their first time. Rey climbed in, but Ben took one last look at Brighton Beach, worried that one day soon Rey might be standing there alone, looking out at the gray ocean, him on the other side of it. He was going into this knowing it had a deadline. It was probably at the back of her mind too.

They dropped the car off at the Bentley dealership a little late, around 9:30 pm. Rey’s old foster father, was not as “cool with it,” as she had previously said. He was an obese man, middle-aged, bald. Ben watched from outside, hailing an Uber just to get them to the closest tube station. The man started off acting annoyed, motioning towards Ben mainly, but now his voice was getting so loud Ben could hear it through the display windows. Rey shrunk in on herself, glancing to see if Ben was watching.

Something clicked on inside his brain. Like a cigarette lighter of understanding. She had called him a _former_ foster parent, which meant that at some point she was taken away from him. 

She was walking out, slamming her full bodyweight into the door.

“What was that, Rey?” Ben asked as she passed him, “Was that just about the car?”

“That. Is just him,” she said, climbing into the waiting Uber.

\-------------------------------------------

Ben hadn’t seen Rey since Brighton Beach, the previous weekend. It was Friday and as soon as his class was over, he went back to the townhouse to nap. He wanted to make sure he had plenty of energy for tonight, if his excitement would let him sleep.

Rey had texted him about a little basement nightclub she liked called The Roxy on his side of town. They had been texting back and forth all week.

 **Rey:** I’ll meet you at your place first if that’s okay.

 **Ben:** Sure, no problem.

 **Rey:** I just want to leave my overnight bag there.

 **Ben:** Oh. haha

 **Ben:** I’ll have to sneak you in, we’re not allowed overnight visitors.

 **Rey:** See you at 11:00.

Ben waited outside his townhouse, trying to get a cigarette in before Rey got there. He couldn’t decide if the aftershave he had bought and applied today was appealing or if he just smelt like a satsuma. He looked up, hearing the click of Rey’s knee-high boots on the sidewalk. She was in a black coat, a short, teal sequined dress, her violet hair pinned back on one side. Her hair looked brighter, recently dyed.

“Hi,” she smiled, swinging her bag back and forth. 

“Hey,” Ben replied, stepping on his cigarette. _Think of a good compliment._ His mind was a blank as he loped down the stairs. He decided he would kiss her, break the tension. Sometimes physical confidence was easier to fake than verbal. He pulled her overnight bag out of her hand mid-kiss, “Ok, I’ll run this inside.”

“Oh, wait, I’ve got all the Love Bug in there,” she said, wiggling her fingers excitedly.

“The what?” he said, holding the straps while she dug out a small Ziplock bag.

“MDMA? Ecstasy? Adam? I don’t know, what do they call it in America?” she said, putting a little pink pill on her tongue and swallowing it.

“Did you just take that drug?” Ben said, still holding the bag up.

Rey looked at his face, “Have you never done E?” It was a genuine question, not a subtle brag.

“No. I’ve never done E. I barely even drink,” Ben replied.

Rey had that look in her eye. The one where she tilted her head down a little and smirked. 

She licked the tip of her finger, locking eyes with him. 

“Whaat is happening?” Ben asked, watching closely with apprehension.

She held her pointer finger in the air, one tiny pill was stuck to it. It had a heart stamped into it.

“Ben, I’m going to put this on my tongue and either I’m going to swallow it, or you are,” she said, mischievously.

Ben shook his head, “You just took one, you can’t do two!”

She put her finger in her mouth, pulling it out slowly.

“Oh, fuck,” Ben said, his eyes widening, before leaning in and kissing her. He could feel her smiling into his lips, her hands sliding around the back of his neck to tangle in his dark hair. The little pill seemed so innocuous when he found it, just inside her mouth, waiting for him to swallow it. He winced as it slid down his throat, a hard, dry lump, and the bitter flavor lingering on his tongue. When she let him go, Ben blinked around, feeling slightly stunned, a little excited, and half expecting the drug to take effect right away. Rey watched him for a moment, amusement playing on her lips, then tilted her head back and laughed. Shaking her head, she turned him towards the house by the shoulders and marched him up the stairs to take her bag inside.

\------------------------------------------------------

“Do you feel anything?” Ben asked as Rey came back from requesting a song from the DJ stand.

“I feel good,” Rey said, assessing herself, but sounding normal. She bent down to tie his shoe that had come undone.

The basement club was packed when they got there. Rey had told him how waiting til later is better, because they save the good songs until it gets crowded. The bar area was lit with vertical red neon lights, with the word DRINKS spelled out in stenciled white paint, as if it weren’t obvious that’s where you go. 

“I don’t think it’s working on me,” Ben said as their second round of shots arrived. The curvy bartenderess set down the shots, and gave him a very pleasing smile, leaning forward on the bar, reminding him of the day Rey had served him lunch. Rey popped up from his shoe and grabbed her shot, scaring the look off the barmaid’s face. She spun around and continued making drinks.

“She thought you were alone. She thought you ordered one of those for her,” Rey laughed.

“No, I don’t think so,” Ben said, he hadn’t ordered the drinks in a flirtatious way.

“You are so naive it’s almost sexy,” Rey said, holding her glass up for a cheers. They clinked their glasses, touched them to the bar and threw them back. 

**The goodbye is the hardest part**

“He’s playing my song! It’s a remix of **Despicable** by **grandson**!” Rey said, pulling him to the dancefloor.

“Ugh. That shot was despicable,” Ben said, his throat burning. He hadn’t eaten anything all day. The anticipation had driven out all thoughts of hunger. The shots were making him comfortably happy, and there was a new floating sensation in his head. Rey’s hand felt so soft in his as she led him through the crowd, his brain only focusing on one little thing at a time.

**Despicable**

**Love her then I leave her**

**And if I were you, I wouldn't love me neither**

The beat dropped as Rey and Ben reached the middle of the room.

Rey spun around, looking at Ben’s face.

**Said if I were you, I wouldn't love me neither**

Without a word, they pulled each other into a kiss. Kissing felt better than sex. All the usual fear was gone from his mind. They were right in the moment, zero inhibitions. He was rock hard, but luckily, it probably wasn’t noticeable in his black jeans. He wanted to lay Rey down right there on the floor.

**Despicable**

“I feel it,” Ben said in her ear.

“I feel _it_ too,” Rey said wickedly, turning around to press her ass into his crotch and rolling her hips to the music, one hand on the back of his neck. 

**And if I were you, I wouldn’t love me neither**

It was a crush of bodies. Everyone on the dance floor started jumping. They joined in. Rey shook her hair from side to side, looking cute and sexy at the same time.

Ben felt like every time he was with Rey; his life became _vibrant_ —the drug gave him the word. He hurt just to think about it, how much he wanted to feel like this all the time. One song blended into the next. The room was pulsating with bass and smoke.

Rey was trying to pull him down for a kiss - no - to slip another pill into his mouth. For some reason, his brain didn’t care this time. She kissed away the bitter taste. They were in their own little world, the rest of the club was just fog.

How long had they been dancing? 

Little blue lights flew over Rey’s face, her eyes had been closed for a while. She was gorgeous. He leaned forward to say something into her ear. Not about how pretty she was, but about this hurt in him, how she should know that he was devoted. It was more than love yet too early to use the L word. Ordinary people used the word “love”, friends said it to each other in parting. He hoped the drug would help him find the words he could never articulate.

“Rey...I-,” he paused, running his hand through his hair, _wow, he was high_.

“I know,” she said, smiling.

They just stood there, beaming at each other, the club pulsating around them.

At some point, Rey went to get them waters and when she came back, she pressed her butt into him again. He steadied himself with his hands on her hips.

“Êtes-vous américain?” she asked.

“Was that French?” he said, realizing his eyes were closed.

It wasn’t Rey. A blonde girl in a silver dress was dancing, sliding up and down on his front. 

Ben felt a splash in his face as Rey threw two cups of water on him. He shook his head, sluggish. Rey disappeared in the crowd, heading for the exit. He gently pushed the other girl to the side with the back of his hand and ran after Rey. The cold air hit his wet face, clearing his drowsiness a little.

Not understanding the situation, the bouncer grabbed Ben’s arms as Rey fled out onto the sidewalk.

“Congratulations! You got the English girl. Now you can add a French one to your Fuckit List,” she said, crushed. She looked at the bouncer, “Don’t let him f-follow me,” and walked into the night without her coat.


	4. The World's End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter song recommendation: lift me from the ground by San Holo, Sofie Winterson
> 
> **Lift me from the ground  
>  Talk to me, I love that sound  
> Out of words when you're around  
> Lift me from the ground  
> I've been trying to come down  
> On a high when you're around**

Ben took his baggage claim ticket over to the Customer Service stand. She looked around for a moment, then wheeled his suitcase over to him, reading the tag.

“Coming home from London?” she asked, making conversation.

He looked up at her, chewing his lip. 

_ Home. _

\---------------------------

\---------------------------

Ben got back to his room, having sent Rey about ten poorly written texts. He saw her little overnight bag at the foot of his bed.

**Ben:** She just came up to me I was so high Rey I swear I dont want to sleep with anyone except for you 

**Ben:** if you want to 

**Ben:** one day

**Ben:** I just remembered the TUbe stops running at midnight and you left at 2 can you just reply so I know you made it home

**Ben:** If I had just been able to tell you how I felt tonight I know you wouldn’t have worreid about me with that girl because youd know you’re so important I feel bad i’m not even sure if I’ve ever paid you a compliment.

**Ben:** Like how the fuck do you know whats going on inside of me if I don’t tell you.

**Ben:** I’m afaid I’m going to say something wrong like if I say something too soon it’ll be too soon and really it’s more than that?

**Ben:** Wish you hadn’t given me that second one I’m fucking this up so bad

**Ben:** Just call me and Ill try to tell you you don’t have anything to worry about with me

**Ben:** I don’t even know if you made it home 

He tried hitting the audio call button. It rang once then went to voicemail.

“Hey. This is Rey. Who the fuck leaves voicemails? Text me, OK Boomer?” BEEP

“Um. It’s Ben. Sorry if you don’t like voicemails. I texted. I know you have your phone because I have your coat and the pockets are empty. Just text me so I know you’re good. I need to explain and now I’m betting you don’t even check your voicemails...Fuck.” 

There was a sink in his bedroom. He bent down and drank as much as he could, straight out of the faucet. He needed to go to the bathroom, but it was down a flight of stairs and it was always cold in there. He whipped it out and pissed in the sink. He washed his hands, looking at himself in the mirror. His face was red and his eyelids were swollen from crying. He pivoted and fell face-first into bed, groaning.

\------------------------------------------

Ben hoped Rey would start to miss him and reply to his texts but it had been two weeks and every day felt like he was having an anxiety attack. He didn’t have a scale, but he estimated he’d lost a few pounds, just from a complete disinterest in food. He’d missed a few classes and he’d dropped out of his internship, his ambition gone. He felt time slipping by, knowing he only had until April to be with her. He started writing down all the things he should have said to her, then an idea came to him.

\------------------------------------------------------ 

It was 10 pm on a Saturday and Rey was waitressing at The World’s End with six busy tables. She went to start with drink orders for the latest arrivals, a young gay couple, holding hands at a booth. They smiled at her as she came over.

“Rey,” one man read her name tag, turning to smile at his partner, “I love your tattoos.”

“Oh, thank you! What can I get for you?”

A few minutes later, a middle-aged man at the bar raised his hand and she came over to see if he wanted food.

“Rey, I think you’re the kind of girl bands write songs about,” he slurred.

Rey laughed, stunned, “Well, thank you. I think you just made my day.”

_ What was going on? Why were strangers complimenting her? _

“Excuse me, Rey?” she heard from another table, the use of her name instead of “miss” was confirming her theory that a game was afoot.

A group of college students were giggling into their glasses, one girl turned in the booth, leaning forward, “Rey, you have the best ass I’ve ever seen.”

Rey laughed, her hand over her mouth. Other tables were watching, everyone in on the joke.

Someone shouted, “Rey, I want to throw you over my shoulder and take you home with me! Will you be my carry-on?” The bar erupted.

Rey was blushing, laughing behind her notepad, spinning as strangers fed her compliments, she assumed were all from Ben. She spotted her boss, Lando, filming from the bar.

“Rey, I want to make purple-haired babies with you.”

“Rey, you’re the best haggler in the world.”

“Rey, I would love to stand all day in the rain with you.”

A punk rock girl with yellow dreadlocks was reading hers off a slip of paper, her arm in the air for quiet, “Rey, I don't deserve you, I'll never hurt you, and if I ever lost you I'd die.” 

Everyone turned to Rey. It was a room full of puppy dog eyes.

“Where did you get this?” Rey asked, pointing to the paper.

“He’s outside, or he was, when I came in an hour ago,” Dreadlocks Girl said, grinning.

Rey ran out the door, right into Ben’s arms, his hand full of more papers. The pub exploded in whistles and cheers.

\---------------------------

\---------------------------

“Well, I go to school here,” he said, staring at his suitcase as he spun it in a circle on it’s wheels.

“Oh, where are you from?”

“Here,” he said, realizing he should have just said this was home.  _ Fuck that word. _

\---------------------------

\---------------------------

Rey ran back inside The World’s End, leaving Ben in shock for a moment, putting his compliments in his pockets. But he took a step inside. Everyone started clapping again, patting him on the back. Rey was just grabbing her coat. She paused at the bar to steal someone’s shot, throwing it back. She cringed while the shot burned it’s way down to her stomach, then grabbed Ben’s hand and pulled him out the door.

They walked along the canal, looking at the riverboats - “narrow boats”, sitting calmly in the water, illuminated by street lamps. Some of them looked uninhabited, but he could hear talking in a few and partying in others. 

“What do you think of that one?” Rey asked, pointing to a red one with yellow diamond-shaped windows docked next to a weeping willow tree.

“It...looks like the type of place Pippi Longstocking would live,” he critiqued, honestly.

“Well, I like it,” she said, dropping his hand and climbing onboard.

“Rey! Don’t!” Ben said, trying to catch her before she crept towards the door, but keeping his feet on the bank.

“It’s  _ fine _ , Ben,” she said, smiling, and letting herself in. He saw her set an unlocked padlock down and go inside.

“Did you just pick that lock?! Rey! There’s probably people sleeping in there,” he said, ready to run.

A pair of panties flew out of the doorway, landing at his feet.

“Why are you always  _ doing _ this to me?” he laughed, picking them up and putting them in his pocket. It was muscle memory now.

He heard her moving around inside. Through the windows, he saw some twinkle lights come on inside, followed by some music.  _ The nerve of this girl... _

Ben stood there alone, weighing the situation. The little, red boat had yellow writing on the side. The Falcon. Ben paced.  _ She must have known it was empty because it was padlocked from the outside. Maybe she knows the people who own it aren’t using it this month or something. _

_ Don’t think.  _

He stepped onboard.

Coming down the steps inside, he found himself in a little living room with a wood stove, TV, and a couch. It looked deceptively small from the outside. And way more updated than the exterior led him to believe.

“Rey?” he whispered.

She opened the door at the end of the hall, laughing playfully and walking towards him. She was so warm in the yellow twinkle lights. This daring, crazy girl.

Ben realised then that Rey was his high. That he was fine before he met her and now the world was a cold, dull place without her. Rey swallowed her laugh, seeing his face. 

He couldn’t laugh. He had almost lost her and it nearly killed him, this girl he’d only spent a few days with. Fuck, he had even quit smoking because he couldn’t be bothered to get out of bed most days. Rey was reading his expression, while they stood quietly, letting the song play instead. 

Ben was thinking about their next moments, what was about to happen. How it wasn’t a joke to him, sex. It was perhaps the only language there was to tell her how he needed her so badly. Rey was serious now too, her look sympathetic. She stretched up and kissed him, a quick apology. But Ben pulled her back up before her heels hit the ground.

He walked her backwards to the couch, pushing her hair away from her mouth so he could tilt his head further, kiss her deeper. She pulled her little black T-shirt off as she backed up, seeming to know her way around. He used the hiatus to do the same, grabbing his shirt by the tag and tugging it over his head. Not an instant was wasted, her lips were waiting for him before his shirt hit the floor. 

Rey took her hands out of his hair, just long enough to undo a front clasp to her bra, shrugging it off. He ran his tongue down her neck, palming her breast.

He felt like he was out of his body, watching them in flashes.

Her mouth on his chest.

His hand moving under her skirt. 

Her head tipping back in pleasure, reminding him of that day in the rain. 

Her legs shaking as she came for him, making those little noises again.

She slid down to sit on the edge of the couch and started unlacing her boots.

Ben used one foot to remove each of his shoes, waiting for Rey to hurry. Looking up, he saw the wall behind the couch had a giant cork board covered in sketches. 

He saw some of himself. He looked around. 

“Rey,” he said, watching her throw her boots carelessly to the corner of the room, “Do you live here?”

“Yes,” she said, standing up.

“The hell, and you just let me think we were breaking and entering?” he said, smiling.  _ Duh, she didn’t pick the lock, she had a key. _

“Yeah, waaanna tour?” she said, in an American accent, that  _ fucking  _ look in her eye, pulling him by the front of his belt into the bedroom.

She unbuckled his belt as they kissed, going too fast again. He put his hand on hers, taking over. She sat on the unmade bed and scooted to the middle, sitting up to watch him. He left his black boxer briefs on, crawling towards her. He didn’t want her to touch him yet. She was going to be ready this time. 

Ben slid his hand from her knee to her upper thigh, raising her skirt. His hand moved down, sliding his fingers into her.  _ Fuck. Please don’t come in your boxers, Ben,  _ he told himself. She was really slick down there now, post living room. He hooked his fingers upward and pulled her down the bed towards him, like opening a drawer. Now she was laying on her back, her mouth open in shock. 

“Did you just-,” she started, stopping as his head went down. He pushed his hair out of his face, his hot tongue on her clit.

“Jeeesus, Ben.”

He put three fingers slowly inside her as he massaged her with his tongue, stretching her, just a little bit. She moaned. He tried not to smile.  _ See, that’s better. _

Ben lifted his head to watch her face for this part. Rey’s whole body tensed as he dug his curved fingers into her G-spot over and over, the muscles on his right arm tight from the effort.

“Fuuuck-ohmygod,” she said, biting her lip ring and finally relaxing, catching her breath. He pulled his hand out and tore his boxers off while she recuperated.

Ben flipped her over, pulling her up by the hips, and flicked her skirt up onto her back. He spat - quietly - into his hand and lubricated himself. Cautiously, he rubbed his tip up and down on her, from clit to her entrance, then slid in slowly, just halfway.

“Ho-ly,” he heard her mutter, grabbing the bedsheets in her fists.

He pulled out slowly, then did it again, letting her lean back if she wanted more. She did.

Ben leaned forward and kissed her back, thrusting slowly, getting faster, going deeper. She moaned, pressing into him. He pulled out and flipped her onto her back, holding her hands above her head to make sure he was the one to control his re-entry. This time was easier. He thrust in liquid motions, not wanting to be too mechanical. 

He was so close, he couldn’t prevent it now if he tried. Ben felt her tensing again, her hands shot out of his grasp, her black fingernails digging into his arm, her hips lifting in time with him, the two of them making the boat sway slightly. She tilted her head back, biting her lip ring again—her tell that she was coming. That, and when she started holding her breath. She relaxed, tiny spasms wracking her body, breathing heavily now, removing her death grip on his arms. 

His turn.  _ Oh shit. _ Ben almost gasped aloud, his eyes flying open, he had forgotten again to put on a condom.  _ Fuck! _ He pulled out, spilling on her sheets, exhaling louder than he intended. 

“I’m on the pill,” Rey laughed, hitting him in the head with a cushion. She rolled out of the bed and went into the small bathroom, throwing him a wet washcloth so he could clean up, mostly the bed…

Ben slid back into his boxers and climbed under the sheets, putting his hand on his forehead. He felt a sense of calm, the water rocking him gently.

Rey was watching him from the bathroom door, still naked, her body glowing.

“Do you really have to go back to America?” she asked, crawling into bed and laying on her stomach. 

Ben had been thinking about this for a month and a half, but he pretended like an idea had just occurred to him.

“I can take you with me,” he said,  _ she didn’t have school _ , “I could take you to Niagara Falls - as long as you don’t make me jump off.”

“I can’t,” she said sadly, “My foster mom is still in chemo. I spend every Wednesday with her in Cardiff.”

“You never told me that,” Ben said, empathetic yet disappointed, rubbing her back, “We don’t have to think about this, now, it’s February. I’m not leaving til April. That’s a long time for us to come up with something.”

\----------------------------------------------------

Rey had locked herself in their bathroom. Well, _ her _ bathroom, although he basically lived with her now.

“Please come out,” Ben said, his voice deep as it echoed back at him. He was talking to the door.

It was his last night. It hadn’t hit home for Rey until she saw his suitcase was packed. She was sobbing, it sounded like she was sitting on the floor.

“Rey, I  _ can’t  _ stay, I am 12 credits shy of my degree, I have to go home- or back,” he was saying. He had been talking to this door for an hour.

“Rey, I know you think if I don’t stay in London it means I don’t care about you-,” his voice broke. So far, he had held it together. They had been inseparable for a month and a half and the thought of not seeing her for a  _ week _ felt hard, much less a  _ year _ .

“I’m sorry I met you when I was 22!” he said, louder, “I’m sorry I have school! I’m sorry my family has expectations for me! I’m sorry I suck at talking to you! I don’t know how to tell you how amazing you are, so you know I’m for real! Why do you even need to hear it? Who the fuck am  _ I _ ? How can you not see it? Three months ago, I didn’t even know people like you existed! I don’t know what the fuck your foster father or other boyfriends have done to you in the past to make you feel like you have no value-,” he was leaning on the door and almost fell when it opened.

“That’s right, you think I’m like this because I’m an orphan and I’ve been with all the wrong guys! Well that’s not it, Ben! I was a virgin when I met you! I went on the pill the day after you jumped off the bridge! I’m way more obsessed with you than you are me! You’re leaving and I WOULD NEVER LEAVE YOU!” Rey cried, shaking.

Ben grabbed her and they took turns crying into each other. His whole perception of their relationship was now somehow different. It was making it even harder to picture leaving tomorrow. He felt so much worse. They moved to the bed and laid down, just clinging to each other, frantic, as if someone was going to bust down the door and drag Ben away.

His vibrating alarm went off at 4:30 am, but he was already awake, numb, staring, his arm around Rey as they spooned. His face screwed up, just for a moment, but he didn’t make a sound. He lifted his arm off of her and silenced the alarm.

He put his shoes on like a zombie, picked up his suitcase, and walked up the steps into the April chill.

\---------------------------

\---------------------------

“Are you okay? I saw you sitting over there for like 2  _ hours _ . I didn’t call security,” the woman at Customer Service added.

“Yeah, no, thank you,” he laughed dryly, remembering what it felt like to be handcuffed. 

He walked down the ramp to the Arrivals doors, thinking about how one day he was going to tell his kids about jumping off Tower Bridge.

Something burned in his chest.

_ Don’t think. _

He walked backwards up the ramp, away from the exit. 

He turned towards Departures, running the opposite direction of everyone else, skipping the escalator and taking the stairs two at a time, holding his suitcase up so it wouldn’t slow him down. He ran, feeling infinite.

**Give me 'til twenty-three, I need another year for this**

**Trying to teach my common sense to not waiver with my confidence**

**Traded my soul to free my mind, car mix to help me pass the time**

**Can I go back to being blind?**

**Asked myself why one too many times**

**And I know this**

**I can't read it right, between the fights**

**I still need you**

**And I know this**

**I fell for your eyes, I just realized**

**I still need you**

**I still need you**

**I tried to say thank you, but I don't know if you heard me**

**I know it wasn't your plan, to just be the one to hurt me**

**My thoughts versus my feelings, my thoughts on you hit the ceiling**

**But my feelings aren't a real thing**

**If I feel things I don't really discern**

**And I know this**

**I can't read it right, between the fights**

**I still need you**

**And I know this**

**I fell for your eyes, I just realized**

**I still need you**

My Thoughts on You - The Band Camino


End file.
